


The Simple Life, Honey, Is Good

by junkster



Category: Australian Comics RPF, The Chaser RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkster/pseuds/junkster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris's (made up) girlfriend leaves him. Craig discovers him late one night in the office and tries (in his own special way) to cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Simple Life, Honey, Is Good

Chris jerked awake, instantly recognising the feel of computer keyboard keys pressed hard against his cheek, the darkness disorientating as he blinked dazedly. Lifting his head a little further, he started to turn and flinched violently as a hand came down heavily on his shoulder.

"Easy!" a familiar voice told him quietly, fingers squeezing the top of his arm. "Sorry mate."

Momentarily stunned by the pounding of his heart in his chest and throat, Chris exhaled slowly and slumped in his chair. "Craig," he breathed, voice raw. "You _scared_ me."

"I know. Wasn't really expecting to find you still here. Why are you still here? Downloading porn or something?"

"Um…" Chris mumbled, fumbling for the mouse and squinting as the computer screen flashed back on; the bright white of his word processor. "I was writing. Something."

The Craig-shaped shadow glanced at the screen, then noted in a slightly amused voice, "There's only three lines. Don't tell me that was so important you couldn't go home and do it?"

Chris blinked at the steadily flashing cursor bashfully. "Well…I didn't want to forget it…"

"Don't give me that crap, Taylor. I know you're a workaholic, but that usually entails actual _work_. What's going on?"

His eyes becoming more accustomed to the low-light, Chris glanced up at Craig, bathed in a blue-white glow. "I just wanted some time alone. Sarah rang earlier to say she's leaving. I didn't really want to go home while she was moving her stuff."

Craig perched on the edge of the desk, arms folded, expression matter-of-fact. "We never liked her, mate. You might not wanna hear it, but Andrew said to me the other day he thought she was no good."

"Hanso said that?"

"Well, no. It was me. But the point stands."

Chris looked back down at the keyboard, rubbing the indentations in his left cheek absently. "Oh…I didn't really…I mean. I thought it was going pretty well."

"Did she say why?"

"Someone else."

"Then it's good riddance, mate. You should be at home enjoying being free again, not moping around the office in the dark."

"I wasn't moping, I was working."

"Right. You can be such a girl sometimes, you know that? Drama queen."

"You know, most friends would try sympathy in a situation like this."

"You're not some tortured artiste, either," Craig told him, ignoring the comment. "Your pain isn't going to produce works of brilliance. You're just some bloke from Sydney."

"I don't mean to..."

"What?"

"Be someone I'm not."

Craig's lip curled slightly in annoyance. "What does that even mean? You are who you are, Taylor, an attention-seeking, loud-mouthed pain in the ass. There is no 'other' you. No hidden depths. Just you."

Chris blinked. "Like you?"

"Yeah, like me. Boring and uncomplicated."

"I think you're one of the most complicated people I've ever met."

"That's an insult, as far as I'm concerned. I'd prefer 'cold, uncompromising bastard'."

"If I'm so straight-forward, does that mean anything I do can be easily explained away? Like science, or something?"

"Sure. It's all just instincts and human nature. There's very little intelligent, rational thought goes on in your brain. You just act."

Chris rose from his chair with surprising speed, one hand shoving against the other man's shoulder as the computer screen turned black once more, leaving them in darkness. Craig let out a muffled sound of surprised pain as his back slammed into the corner of a metal filing cabinet and Chris's mouth covered his, flailing hands coming around to wrap around Chris's neck for support.

"Jesus, Taylor," he drawled, as Chris pulled back briefly. "Trying to break my spine?"

Chris pressed him hard against the corner again and forced him to draw a sharp breath through his teeth. "You really are unflappable, aren't you?"

"Having your tongue in my mouth isn't exactly a new sensation."

"So tell me…was that me acting on instinct? Being myself?"

"Yeah, being annoying. But using your instincts, I guess."

"I was answering the constant voice in my head that wants to shut you up somehow."

"Wants to _do_ me, you mean."

"Turn around for a second. Hands against the cabinet."

"Spread my legs? Is this an unknown cop fetish coming to light?" Craig asked with amusement as Chris slid both hands up under his shirt and lifted the material.

"Was that painful?" Chris placed his hand carefully over the area that had connected with the cabinet and Craig flinched. "Does it hurt?"

"My kids can give me bigger bruises than you ever could."

Chris leaned in and trailed his tongue up the patch of hot skin, leaving a wet stripe. "Do you hate me?" he murmured against Craig's shoulder.

"No. I like you. Isn't that bloody obvious?"

"...Are you being sarcastic?"

Craig sighed. "Christ, you're thick, mate."

"Excuse me for not having been to _law_ school."

"I wasn't being sarcastic, alright? I like you."

"And that's why you're such a dick to me?"

"If I didn't like you, I just wouldn't give a toss. Wouldn't bother at all."

"Oh. Right. Good."

Craig turned around and put his hands on Chris's shoulders, walking him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the desk. "I thought you'd have got this by now. I don't do arty, or emo, or telling my friends I love them. Just...take it for granted, okay?"

One of Chris's hands bumped the mouse and the white screen flashed back on, illuminating huge dark eyes, all pupil. "Can I tell you I love you?"

"How about you just show me instead. You look good by cathode ray."

"Why do you want to?"

Craig smirks slightly. "I'm not sure. Something to do with CNNNN. I've had you sort of stuck in my system ever since. I dream about it sometimes, you know?"

"Are you serious?"

"I dream about what would have happened if we'd been the only ones there. You and me, naked on the desk." Craig leaned in close, planting his hands on the table on either side of Chris, trapping him. His voice lowered a notch as he pressed his hips against Chris's thigh. "I wake up hard every time."

Chris swallowed noticeably, glancing around the room at the darkness beyond Craig's shoulder. "Is there a camera in here?"

Craig smiles again. "No. Just you, me, and a desk."

"It's not a joke?"

"There's no one here. Relax."

Chris nodded and curled his fingers in the front of Craig's shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. One of Craig's hands cupped his jaw, thumb pressing past Chris's lips as they pulled apart, sliding hot and wet into his mouth. Chris's tongue met it half-way, licking obscenely at the curved joint. Craig's hips pressed forwards again and Chris lifted his leg, providing pressure that forced Craig's eyes shut briefly.

"On the desk," he murmured, pushing at Chris's chest with his free hand. "Lie down."

Chris did as he was told, lying back, legs dangling over the edge, paper crumpling beneath his back as Craig moved between his thighs. Fingers finding their way back to Craig's shirt, Chris looked up with black eyes, flickering with pale light. "Fuck me?"

Craig stroked a hand up the inside of Chris's right leg, trailed his eyes slowly from the top button of his jeans to his dark eyes, and smiled slowly.


End file.
